Bree had been running and walking and looking over her shoulder for... it seemed forever, the way the days stretched to nights and back again and the air getting brisker and water getting colder and dew turning to frost to ice to snow.
The trees seemed to fall asleep earlier this year, the sap grew more sluggish as each leaf fell to the earth. The wintering lassitude of the vegetation that still lived now during the coldest months made it harder for Bree to wake up and get going as nights wore on. Bree had always been especially connected to forests.
Bree wore all her clothes at once now, to keep off the chill and to even her awkward load, meager as it was. The laundry bag, frayed now, held what foodstuffs she could find. The white duck either waddled behind her or stayed quiet in her arms at night. Bree took to sleeping by day and traveling by night. She told herself that it was only because she worried about freezing to death, for her reasons to want to avoid the public and therefore the police were dark memories she never wanted to think about again. It seemed easier, especially in less populated areas, to not think about her purposes for being in the wilds far from a warm home. She stayed clear of towns and cities if she could; she sometimes fantasized about seeing her face on wanted for murder posters. She hadn't stayed to find out if the Old Man ever did get up after all. East – towards the rising sun seemed a good enough course for a murderous runaway like her.
But now, Bree was too tired. Tired of running. Tired of walking. Tired of no warm food. Tired of always looking over her shoulder. Tired of seeing her family in every face she passed. Tired of... everything.
Bree stopped. Her legs buckled and she dropped to her knees. The duck merely shifted in its sleep, cradled in her arms, unconcerned over mortal woes.
Bree bowed her head in defeat. She couldn't even cry. 'Too tired for even that,' she mused, throwing her head back to regard the heavens. She knew in the back of her mind that it was a good thing the clouds made a thick barrier tonight. They kept the warmth in the earth's atmosphere. But she couldn't help missing the stars, always so clear in the cold.
Shuffling on her knees to a little cave made by a weighed down evergreen branch covered in snow, Bree curled in on herself and slept.
3333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333
Beast was alone wandering the winter woods again as he had discovered he quite enjoyed the solitude. Musing over scientific things, life, and problems common to a house filled with hormonal teenagers, he was shocked by the sudden sound of … a duck?
"Wouldn't they've all flown south for the winter by now?" Beast puzzled aloud, hoping he wouldn't have to put something out of its misery.
Rounding a thick copse of trees, he was astounded to see a domestic white Peking duck sitting there happy-as-you-please in the middle of the woods. How incongruent!
She quacked loudly again and wagged her tail as though proud of herself for attracting his attention.
But as he moved closer, she whisked under a pine branch and quacked again. Well, Beast remembered he'd ought to be getting back soon and couldn't go running after silly ducks in the woods. But then a breeze picked up and he smelled for the first time, a person. Who'd apparently had not had a decent shower in some time, at that. He'd not heard anything, seen anything, smelled anything prior, so he thought a quick look around couldn't hurt. What he found was a half frozen blond girl with blue lips and fingers under the tree the duck went under. As her heartbeat seemed to be growing fainter by the minute, Beast did the only possible thing he could've done. He picked her up and ran home to the Institute.